Albus Dumbledore: A Brief Look Through the Years
by Seph11207h
Summary: A collection of brief omake-like one-shots of Dumbledore through 7 years.


**Year One**

"_Harry, I'm not sure about this. We'd be breaking about a hundred rules! And we could get killed! Or, even worse, Expelled_!"

"_There's no time for qualms, Hermione, we have to. It's for the Greater Good!_"

Albus Dumbledore was looking down at his desk.

On the desk was an exact scale replica of Hogwarts, inside and out, every last detail of the Castle plotted in precise squares.

Small porcelain replicas of Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were currently placed at the entrance to the third floor corridor on the right hand side.

Dumbledore paused, reached into his desk drawer, and dug through Snape, McGonagall, and Quirrell before finding his miniature Ron Weasley.

He placed Ron beside Harry, and, in his best imitation of a "Ron voice,"said_ "Blimey, guys, I sure hope there's a chess-related obstacle on the way to finding the Stone, or else I'd be completely useless!_"

Dumbledore giggled.

**Year Two**

Minerva McGonagall stood outside the Headmaster's office. Though she was tooproper to eavesdrop, from the other side of the door she _incidentally _heard what sounded like Albus Dumbledore talking to himself.

She could hear a muffled voice saying, "And Harry says, '_Good thinking, Hermione! Who would have guessed the Chamber was right here in Moaning Myrtles bathroom?_' Parseltongue, parseltongue, parseltongue. '_There, I've opened the Chamber of Secrets!_'

"Then Harry finds the Weasley girl, kills the Voldecrux Diary, saves the day!

"And Ginny says, '_You're my hero, Harry!'"_

McGonagall knocked on the Headmaster's door. From within, she heard the sound of clanking porcelain while a hurried voice shouted:

"One second!"

**Year Three**

The doors of the Hogwarts infirmary burst open as Severus Snape barged in, flanked by Minister Fudge and Albus Dumbledore.

"_YOU DON'T KNOW POTTER! HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT_!"

Dumbledore calmly tutted. "Now, now, Severus, I have it all under control. _All_ of it. In fact, I made this flowchart."

He then proceeded to reach into his beard and pull out a rather large and lengthy parchment. Unfolding it, he directed Snape to a section near the bottom and began to read.

"'Snape bursts into the infirmary, yelling that Harry Potter has aided Sirius Black in escaping'...we follow _that_ arrow to...here. And _it_ says, 'Show Snape flowchart.'

"See? You have absolutely nothing to worry about!"

Dumbledore made this point by flashing Severus a rather toothy smile.

"…I'd better just leave."

**Year Four**

Faced with another sleepless night, (the Triwizard Tournament was, of course, a harrowing experience for a fourteen year old boy), Harry Potter had taken to surveying his Marauder's Map.

He saw Dumbledore in his office. Rapidly pacing back and forth, as usual. One was forced to wonder what he could possibly be doing in his study, and for so many hours on end…

In the Office of Albus Dumbledore, a heated discussion was taking place.

"The boy may be underage, yes, but he is _fully _equipped to handle the tasks!"

"…"

"Maybe a bit of broom riding, maybe a bit of Gillyweed. I'm sure he'll be prepared."

"…"

"Are you accusing me of _aiding_ him in this? I thought you would be above that, Harrison!"

Harrison (being, as he was, a potted fern) had no strong opinions one way or the other, of which he vehemently proceeded to not express.

Dumbledore patiently waited for Harrison to explain himself.

"…"

"Alastor Moody? Alastor Moody cannot assist Harry, he doesn't even work here!"

"…"

"Hm? Oh, _that_ Alastor Moody? You mean Barty Crouch Junior! I'd imagine Minerva has already alerted the Aurors. It is what any _sane _person would do."

"…"

"Of course she knows that's not the _real_ Moody. I mean, just look at him!" Dumbledore waved a hand dismissively. "Soul's all wrong."

"…"

"Well then, we'll have to wait and see, won't we?"

**Year Five**

Doris Umbridge strode into the Headmaster's office, a smugly superior smile plastered to her plump face.

She began her announcement. "Albus, I seem to have noticed some _flaws_ in the-"

"Tch! Hush, Professor McGonagall! Can't you see I'm busy?" 

Her smile slowly faltered. "I…my name isn't…are you wearing a_ bathrobe_?"

"I said not now, Minerva! There are forces at work here beyond your understanding!"

"My name isn't…what _exactly _are you doing?"

Dumbledore's face lit up. "Investigating!"

He took a puff on his pipe.

Bubbles slowly drifted to the ceiling and popped.

"Investigating _what_?"

"Voldemort! I'm hot on his trail! He was hiding, and hiding well. But _I found him!_"

At this statement, Umbridge came close to surpassing usual metaphorical limitations and very nearly literally exploded. "_YOU-KNOW-WHO _is _not _alive, and if he _was_, you certainly would _not _be able to find him in your office wearing a _bathrobe _andsmoking a_ bubble pipe_!"

Dumbledore looked astonished, and so much so that he almost dropped the magnifying glass he had been using to closely examine a withered potted fern.

"I'm surprised at you, Professor McGonagall! To think, after all the evidence has been piling up, you-"

"_MY NAME IS NOT MCGONAGALL!_"

Albus took off his detective's hat and peered at Umbridge. "Ah. Regardless though, I've formulated a plot to catch Tom."

Dumbledore took out a small piece of paper. Opening his box of crayons, he began to sketch what looked like an American football formation.

"Potter and his group enter the Ministry _here_, where the Death Eaters will be waiting. They do some fancy maneuvering through the Hall of Prophecies, and finally end up _here, _in the room with The Veil. Suddenly," and here Dumbledore stopped to chuckle, "the Order of the Phoenix appears to save the day, followed by Yours Truly! And we catch the bad guys!"

Dumbledore reflectively paused for a moment, staring at his piece of paper, then looked up at Umbridge, a half-mad grin stretching across his face.

"Get your coat, Watson! The game is afoot!"

**Year Six**

"Remember, Severus, don't let Draco kill me. His soul is too _pure_. That's why I need you to shoot me. Aim for the face. If you're in close quarters, try slashing the jugular, Not with a wand, mind you, that's no good for slashing. Do you own a bayonet?"

"…No."

"Then we'll have to make do with the Avada Kedavra. Ah, well, at least it'll be quick. Make it looks good."

"Headmaster, I really must protest a second time-"

"Too late! Team Kill Dumbledore, hands in!"

-OoO-

Dumbledore faced Snape, a pleading look in his eyes.

"Severus…please...SOYLENT GREEN IS PEOPLE!

"Oops, wrong spoiler."

The Death Eaters paused, bewildered looks crossing their faces.

"No, no, you continue. I'll stop."

"_Avada Kedavra._"

A flash of green light, and like a ragdoll, the body of Albus Dumbledore toppled off the tower.

As he fell, though…

"_Whew, that was close. Pretty convincing, Albus; you sly dog, you…Ah, right."_

Dumbledore reached into his robes and took a swig of the Feather Fall potion, then relaxed as his body drifted to the ground.

He would be heading to Florida as soon as his funeral ended.

**Year Seven**

(Author's Note: Due to an unfortunate incident in tying up loose ends, Albus Dumbledore was, against all odds, and to the severe disappointment of his new friends in Florida, harpooned while swimming in the Gulf of Mexico. It was, to say the least, very tragic for everyone present. Especially when he Apparated back to his coffin before breathing his last.)

Harry sat facing Dumbledore, their conversation having ended.

"Wait," said Harry. "Tell me one last thing. If I'm not dead, and you are, you couldn't possibly exist here except as a memory. Yet you tell me things that I don't know, so you _can't_ _be a memory_!"

Dumbledore paused. "Well…I never thought of it like that."

The walls of King's Cross Station began to crumble.

"What was that?"

Dumbledore looked around. "Oh, just the walls of reality breaking down. I'd better go."

"_YOU DID IT AGAIN!"_

And with a "poof," Dumbledore was gone.


End file.
